Hetalia isn't mine! :3

The sand was golden and warm beneath and between the toes. The ocean, with its cool, blue, glittering surface, cascaded onto the shores in foamy waves. The sounds of the moving water pooled and resounded with the laughter of sandcastle-building children, the caws of seagulls swerving and gliding in the sky, and the boom of stereo speakers set on either side of this disc jockey table as they blasted pop music both old and new. The beach should be enjoyed with a cleared mind and a cheerful, party attitude- especially with this fun atmosphere- but it wasn't the case for one nation.

Norway was sitting on a stool at the beach's concession bar, straightening the Norwegian flag sarong tied around his hips and gently kicking his toes at the sand below his stool. He was using his crazy straw to stir his thick, bright green, candy-and-tropical-fruit-flavored cocktail and the plastic pink flower that came with the glass to adorn his blonde hair. It was his fourth serving of the drink, and it seemed that with each serving, the smoothie-like drink became thicker and thicker; it almost felt like softened ice cream on his palette. Normally, Norway wouldn't indulge in drinks until at least six in the evening- especially not in front of little children- but right about now he needed as much alcohol as he can get to reduce the intensifying headache pounding away in his skull. His violet eyes- already beginning to cloud over- scanned the sandy landscape. Finland and Sweden were lying flat on large towels to get all-over tan, Sealand was trying to build a large castle to establish his identity as a country with, Iceland and Hong Kong were dancing closely together by the disc jockey table (too close in Norway's opinion. Was that Hong Kong kid slipping his hand in Iceland's swim trunks?!) and Denmark-

"Hi, Nor-orge!"

Speaking of headaches…

Norway turned around in his stool. Sure enough, there was Denmark sprinting his way towards Norway, dragging his battle-axe behind him and waving wildly with his free hand. Tied around his head was his black sarong with the sequined flame design (one that Norway absolutely had to buy for Denmark else he must suffer the Dane's consistent whining and tantrum). Norway sighed as Denmark practically shoved off the occupant of the stool next to him and took her place, carefully leaning his axe against the bar.

"Hey, Norge, what's going on?" Denmark grinned. He noticed the glass of almost-neon green cocktail sitting in front of Norway. He leaned in to take a closer look. "Ew, dude, you got the gay drink! Keh ha ha ha!"

Norway's eyebrow furrowed in indignation. Don't bother wasting time rebuking his homophobic comment. It'll just go in one ear and out the other…

"It's not a 'gay drink', Dane; not every brightly-colored drink has to be 'gay', just like how not every gay guy likes bright colors; you don't like pink," Norway said. Okay, maybe I can give it another try…

Denmark straightened up and waved his hand dismissively, signalling that he really didn't care. "Ja, ja, I know, I know. Hey, watcha doing over here, Norway? Not enjoying the party scene, you stiff beach grinch?"

"No, not since you started terrorizing the west side of the beach with your 'Awesome' buds" and made me want to get away from you," Norway answered. He took a long, slow sip of his drink.

"What is that, anyway?" Denmark looked at the drink with curiosity.

"It's called a Bahamas Mama, apparently. It actually tastes good."

Denmark shrugged and tapped the bar to get the bartender's attention. "Yo, dude, pass a couple of beers over here?"

"Sorry, we don't sell beer here. We sell what's on the menu though," the bartender said as he wiped clean a glass.

Denmark squinted up at the menu hanging high above the bartender's head. Norway continued to sip at his drink and shook his head; he already knew what Denmark was going to order once he finds it.

"Oh, this one sounds interesting," Denmark said. "Let me get a Sex on the Beach...hold the 'Beach'." He ran his finger up and down Norway's arm as he said his joke and giggled. When his cocktail came, he lifted up the glass. "To the hopes of of getting laid by a sexy Norwegian kitten!" He tipped the glass back and gulped down almost half the glass.

"Ah ha ha ha," Norway droned sarcastically.

"Hey, you laughed at my joke! It's starting to work, already! So, why were you hanging out at the bar all day, anyway?"

"Didn't I already tell you that I was trying to avoid you?"

"Avoid me? Aw, I see...!" Denmark leaned closer to Norway and smirked lustfully. "So, you couldn't handle my sweet charms and had to get away before my hotness made you uncontrollably horny, eh?" He wiggled his eyebrows and smirked wider.

Norway looked down at his glass. Tossing the crazy straw over his shoulder, Norway downed the rest of his Bahamas Mama straight out of the glass and smashed the empty glass over Denmark's head. As Denmark fell backwards off his stool and writhed in pain on the sand, Norway tapped the bar and piled some more money on it.

"Can I get another Bahamas Mama over here?"

Were you guys expecting sexy-sexy smut bromance on the beach? Too bad! Ke sesesese~!